


Robert And Sam In The Woods

by theprincessed



Series: Village Talk [15]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Animal Death, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Conversations, Fluff and Humor, Forests, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9172894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: One ordinary morning, Sam pulls Robert into an unexpected adventure he’ll likely never forget…





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! GOD KNOWS WHAT THE HECK THIS IS. And guess what? It’s just about my longest VT to date wtf wtf lol. Another for the pile of practicing characters ‘voices’ I think.
> 
> Hope you enjoy x

It's a morning like any other for Robert has he crosses Main Street and heads to Bob's for an Americano to take away. It's a rare thing that Nicola hasn't foisted any meetings in Leeds or Manchester onto him, so he thought he'd be responsible and spend some time in the portacabin trying to poach some more clients for the business. He also planned a sneaky look at how the scrapyard is doing – since he is still an investor after all – seeing as he won't have Aaron hovering over his shoulder. He'd left him just about woken up in their bedroom with a cup of tea and a kiss to the forehead.

“You look - ” he started like he was going to pay Robert a compliment then squinted at him bleary-eyed. Robert knew he pretended to yawn, but let it go, secretly loving the fact that his fiancé was still sometimes too embarrassed to say what he really thought. “You're wearing a suit.” he said instead, the meaning that he approved of the choice remaining hidden. Luckily, Robert was now almost fluent in Aaron-speak.

“You can take it off me later,” he replied smugly, grinning wider when Aaron rolled his eyes.

Ten minutes after that, Robert's coming out of the cafe with his coffee in one hand and his eyes foolishly downcast towards his phone in the other, sending Aaron a cheeky text to tide them both over, when someone bodily crashes into him. The takeaway cup tumbles from his fingers as coffee spills over the waist of his pale blue shirt and all of his dark suit trousers, making him trip over the doorway to try and somehow avoid the spray, proving obviously fruitless when it hits the ground and drenches his shined shoes. If this was the kind of karma he was getting served for making an effort, he wasn't sure he wanted to bother next time.

“Oh for god's - ” he spits, utterly cross.

“Sorry! Sorry! I di'nt see ya there, Sugden!” the voice interrupts hurriedly, deep and awkward.

With dreaded recognition, Robert blinks slowly and sighs, pulling his pocket square from his suit jacket. It's silk but he's in a pinch. “Obviously not,”

“Would ya like some – I can just - ” Both of them blocking the doorway, Sam pulls a wad of crumpled tissues from his coat pocket as something heavy hits Robert in the thigh, “Oh god, sorry!”

Robert glances up, eyebrows raised and lip curled in disdain. “What the fresh hell is that?”

“This?” Sam grins, “It's a pheasant. I been out this mornin' poaching, like,”

He squawks like the bird in question, Robert assumes, and holds it aloft like a prize. Robert watches the dead animal swing in front of him for a split-second before coming to his senses because he's going to have to go back home to change clothes, He gives up on patting himself down and forces a bright tone. The thought of the pub as _home_ always makes him inwardly smile now, even if it won't be for much longer. “Right, well, I best be off.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! – Uh, sorry again, it's just – er – maybe ya shouldn't be looking at that thing so much, eh?” he half laughs, facing Robert as he sidesteps him.

“What?”

“That.” he emphasises with a nod to Robert's phone still clutched in his hand, “Nowt that important in life, is there?”

 _Money. Reputation. Prestige._

Robert thinks of Aaron's _laugh_ when he trudges upstairs to their room and inevitably tells him all about this and concedes Sam has a point. He'd do anything to make Aaron laugh, even if it's at his own expense. “You're probably right. See ya 'round, Sam.”

“I can help ya!” Sam calls to his retreating back and because it doesn't make any sense and the last time made Robert chuckle ( _peacock robber_ ), he indulges him by turning around. He holds the dead pheasant up again and suddenly it's taken on a menacing quality, which is mad because this is Sam bloody Dingle and he proves it with another chin-prominent smile. “If ya help me.”

Robert swallows hard.

That's how he's come to be standing – no, _crouching_ – in some woods near the perimeter of Wishing Well. Robert had tried his hardest to squirm his way out of it, but it seems his manipulation fell on blissfully deaf, naïve ears.

I have a meeting. - _You can't go dressed like that, can ya?_

Can't you get Zak to help you? Or Cain? - _Me dad's back's playing up again and Cain says he's busy and it best not to argue when our Cain says that._

I'm useless with a gun - _Not what I heard. Di'nt ya pull one on Ross Barton last New Year's Eve? Besides, you're Jack Sugden's son._

And the kicker: I don't have any appropriate clothes - _Ya can borrow some of mine._

It turns out that Sam was out poaching a bird that morning to use in a badly hatched plan as some bait. A fox had got into Lisa's chickens overnight and attacked a fair few, leaving the dead's bloody carcasses and the lucky ones panicky and restless. Not being able to bear the sad look on her face, Sam had volunteered to 'sort' the problem.

“And a pheasant comes into this how exactly?” Robert whispers, trousers scratchy against his skin but the gloves thankfully warm around the barrel of Zak's shotgun.

Ahead of him by a step, Sam halts behind the thick trunk of a tree. He looks a little embarrassed as he shrugs. “Well, it's looks like a chicken, like. We find the fox, put the bait near and then BANG!” Robert clenches his jaw, hating the fact that Sam's raised voice made him jump. “We shoot it. For Lisa.” he smiles.

“And her chickens,” Robert says flatly.

“Yeah, see? It ain't hard!” he replies gleefully, missing the tone completely. “She'll be dead chuffed you're doin' this - “

“I didn't volunteer - ”

“ - Reckon there'll be a pint in it for ya, Sugden,” Sam grins, talking over his protests.

It's really happened. Robert Sugden has been steamrollered by a Dingle and without a single punch being thrown.

“Can you not do that?” he sighs, after some more fruitless creeping in the woods to find this damn fox. He swears too much outdoor activity and fresh air is sending him loopy, making him _glad_ that he's no longer wearing his suit to partake in something like this. 

“What?”

“Don't call me Sugden. 'S'what Cain does when he thinks I can't hear,”

“Oh.” Sam pauses, thoughtful. “What do I call ya then?”

“What d'you think?” he snaps before he quickly reigns himself back in. “Sorry. Robert. Robert's fine.”

They walk another mile or so then decide to have a break. Sam tells him it's because his gloves are starting to smell of the dead pheasant, but Robert wonders if he's beginning to rethink his flimsy plan. Part of him hopes not, otherwise they might be here all day.

Robert sits down on some dry leaves, his back resting against another huge tree, and carefully puts the shotgun beside him. He's wary that it's obviously loaded with live ammunition and that he hasn't held a weapon since before he felt it's dangerous power try to rip through him himself. Perhaps noticing his quiet stare or – here's a novelty – just being nice, Sam passes him a hot thermos. “So, you're moving in with our Aaron, eh?”

After a moment's hesitation, Robert pours a drop of tea into the lid-come-cup and hands the thermos back to him. “I already live with him,” he can't resist pointing out.

Sam takes it in his stride, gulping straight from the thermos then wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Robert grimaces, hoping it's not the hand that has been clinging onto the pheasant that had a long piece of string tied to its ankle. _So we can lure the fox towards us_. Obviously. “Nah, but all proper, like. In Mill. With his sister, like a family.”

“Yeah. Well, when it's all done,” he smiles, his heart always doing an excited little flip whenever anyone mentions Mill Cottage to him, even though it won't be liveable for a while yet.

“S'nice, that.” There's a pause and Robert waits it out because he's got nothing better to do out here and he senses from Sam's nervy expression that he's got more he wants to ask.

“What?”

“Just wonderin'...what it's like living with a bloke, y'know?” He urgently gets to his feet, putting the thermos away and has pheasant and gun back in his hands. He shrugs his shoulders. “But I guess it don't matter 'cause you're gay. You dunno any different.”

Robert raises his eyebrows, almost snorting a laugh. There's many things wrong factually with what he's saying but maybe, just maybe, Robert is coming to understand why the Dingles and Megan and many other villagers find Sam so endearing. His honest outlook on life is refreshing as Liv is like family now and Mill will be a fresh start, like he and Aaron are properly moving in together instead of some make do trial period to see if they can stand each other.

Robert stands up and feels a certain freedom in not brushing himself down. The clothes on his back are meant for getting stuck in, for dirt, for the job at hand. “I'm bisexual, Sam.” he explains, the knot in his stomach loosening the tiniest bit every time he comes out to someone new. There's a certain freedom in that too. “And I was married to Chrissie, remember? But you're right, it doesn't matter. Well, _it does_ , it did - it's just - ” Their eyes meet and he's amused at the expectant look on Sam's face, as if he's asked his questions and now it's back to the more serious business of hunting the pesky fox and how he turns away from Robert to signal the end of the conversation. “This is it for me now. Aaron is it. And I'm gonna marry him.”

“Ha! That welly's got ya name on it!” he crows over his shoulder then marches off.

“Over my dead body!” Robert shouts, tripping over his feet to follow him at pace, “I'm bein' serious! Cain can stick his welly where the sun don't - ”

“SHH!” Sam hisses suddenly, stopping in his tracks and nearly making Robert re-enact the reverse of Sam bumping into him that morning. “Listen. Look!”

He blinks rapidly, confused by both commands in quick succession, then looks in the direction that Sam is vaguely pointing in front of them. Robert finally notices that in his time to catch up, Sam had thrown the pheasant out into a clearing near some sort of muddy burrow. They stand motionless in the camouflage of their clothes and the thick trees of the woods as two eyes glint at them, not seeing their presence but the tasty gift instead. Sure enough, as Robert feels his breathing sync up with the man beside him, the shiny auburn coat of the fox catches the daylight as the animal shyly sniffs the air. It's beautiful in it's own way and when Sam nods at him to raise his gun, he realises that he doesn't want to kill it.

_What are ya, son? A man or a mouse?_

_Aim. Breathe in. Squeeze the trigger. Simple as that._

_Farming is in our blood and it's all there for you, for your future, Robert._

_For you, your wife, your kids. The next generation of Sugdens._

_Your wife. Your kids._

_Your wife. Your kids._

_**You're Jack Sugden's son.** _

A shot rings out, echoing around the woods and carrying with it a short animal yelp of surprise, except Robert jerks back a step and opens eyes he doesn't remember closing and already knows that he wasn't the one to pull the trigger. He lowers the gun as his shoulders sag in relief that it's over and Sam tuts under his breath then picks his way out into the flatter ground where the fox now lies slumped over the bait. 

Job done, he smiles over his shoulder at Robert. “Definitely a pint.”

Robert half-heartedly agrees that he'll meet him in the Woolpack for one as they part ways, Sam detouring to Wishing Well to give Lisa the news that a fox is dead and hopefully it's the culprit. There's no way of knowing, but Robert doesn't think that's entered Sam's head. He wanted to do something helpful for Lisa and for once he succeeded. 

Robert's thinking about being cutting a good deal on some poultry from a client he picked up for Lawrence eons ago when he remembers that he's still wearing clothes that belong to Sam. He'd parked his Porsche on the edge of the woods before their hunt and he's already pulling onto Main Street now, so he stops behind the pub and is thankful that he can at least use the back door.

It's unfortunate that Chas is coming down the stairs as he arrives.

“What the hell are you wearing?” she cackles, “Eh, what happened to Mr Office Totty?”

“Don't,” he warns darkly. “And please don't call - ”

“Aaron!” she yells, “Aaron, come and look at this!”

“This?” Robert's mouth drops open, “I'm not some news on the telly, Chas, I - ”

“What're ya yellin' about now?” Aaron demands before he steps into the hallway from the backroom. He frowns at his mother then, noticing his fiancé, blinks at him like he's not sure what he's seeing is real. “Oh, hiya.”

He and Chas glance at each other until neither of them can hold it in and Robert rolls his eyes as they burst into laughter. “What? It's not that bad, is it?”

“No, no,” Aaron splutters, almost bent double, “Only I didn't think fingerless gloves or the big jumper and boots were very 'you',”

“Oh my god!” Chas exclaims, pointing at him wildly, “You know who does like all those things though? Ya know who he looks like? _Sammy_!”

Aaron scrunches his nose up cutely. “Mum, shurr'up!”

“Yeah, shut up, Chas,” Robert says through gritted teeth.

She puts her hands up, placating. “Alright, I'm sorry. I'll leave you to it. Find out the story and tell me later because I need to hear this,” she whispers to her son as she disappears into the pub.

Aaron snorts then turns a soft look on Robert. It's been happening more and more lately and it lights him up from the inside. “Okay, now we're alone you can tell me what's going on. You left this morning in a boring suit and now you look like this. Spill.”

“I thought you liked my suit?”

Robert steps into his personal space, naturally backing Aaron up against the doorway with his hands around his waist, and leans in to briefly kiss him. “I do,” he admits quietly when they move their faces away but still comfortably cling to each other, “you know I do. Stop avoiding.”

Robert swallows, thinking of the reminders of the shooting and Jack still inside his head no matter what he's done to be more of himself in the last few months. He feels like he can talk Aaron about that (or at least _try_ ) in the same way Aaron will accept comfort from him after a terrible nightmare, but also knows that there's time to get into it later.

He's got a hell of a story to tell first.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies x
> 
> I'm on tumblr at [theprincessed](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com). Come chat to me. :)


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